The end of a Life All Its Own

Work can be mind numbingly monotonous at times. Requests come in and designs go out. Except this one which took on a life all its own and just as quick as it started, it was over.

Work on a logo for a preschool was taking forever. Most designs I was coming up with were dull and uninspired. The customer told me she wanted something cartoonish. Something childlike. It was when I started drawing the teddy bear that it seemed to fall into place. He worked. this design felt good, it went fast and just clicked. I was drawing the eyes and I thought 'they need a shine, a reflection on them' Cute button eyes need a shine on them. There. That makes them even better. He's cuddly! He's perfect!

Except there's something wrong with his mouth. Let me re-draw that. There! Now there's a slight quiver on his smile. A little tremble telling me that he's faking it. He's forcing it, I only see it because I've zoomed in on the smile to where it takes up the whole screen. For once it's the details rather than the whole picture that tell me the real story.

His name was Bernie, Bernie the Bear. Not his real name of course, his real name was Edgar, a name he despised since birth. Something he held so deep inside that very few people who even knew his real name realized that he hated it. It was probably one of the reasons he never got along well with his mother as well but I digress.
     This job was a job like any other, the money was good and the work was easy. Just be a cute and cuddly mascot for some mom and pop preschool. They liked him for the part, he knew the job like the back of his paw, this was cake. But something was wrong. Something was eating away at him, had been for a while now, what it was I could only guess at. He was good at hiding whatever it was, so good that no one ever saw the end coming.
     After a photo shoot he left without saying goodbye or thanks or any of the usual niceties that people go through to conclude an event. No one noticed, he left. As many times as it's happened in the past you'd think that it wouldn't bother him as much but every time always felt like the first time. It was a sting that grew into a lump in his throat that turned into an ache in his chest. It's not that people didn't like him or even that they didn't care. He was well liked. He even knew it but the sting came from the fact that no one really asked about him. They didn't ask how he was, except for the generic greeting which only made it worse. "Hey Bernie! How you doing?" They never waited for a response, none was expected.
     He drove absentmindedly to Denny's for a meal. Traffic while being a little congested didn't bother him this time. "How odd" he thought.
     The meal was spent in the corner booth and was as greasy as you'd expect. The coffee was refilled every time he took a sip which normally would have infuriated him as he'd have to remix the creamer and sugar to get just the right taste which was almost always impossible after the first refill.

     His suicide note was written on the back of an envelope he had taken from the dash of his car, he couldn't remember what it was doing there in the first place which ultimately led him to believe it was more than coincidence. It was short and to the point and for the first time in his life, open. In the note he managed to say exactly what it was that was wearing him down. Why he never showed up to parties and why he cried after turning out the light at night. Along with the note he left all the money in his pocket on the table: $74.25 for the tip. He didn't need it, why not help someone else along?
     He drove home and sat in his favorite chair and sipped on a tall glass of water. He never finished it. The police found him late afternoon the next day after he never showed up for work. The scene was a grizzly one, stuffing everywhere.